


And When The Sky Clouds Over, I Will Still Be There

by springsnow



Series: b i g s t r o n g f a m i l y [5]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, And Pete's McFucking Had Enough, Arguing, Bathing/Washing, Bedtime Stories, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, Frustration, Gen, Guilt, Light Angst, Non-Sexual Age Play, Stuffed Toys, Trent Is Bad At Talking About Feelings, Tyler Is Worried
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 05:30:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19717183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springsnow/pseuds/springsnow
Summary: Trent's been doing a lot of thinking. Pete wants him to do some talking.





	And When The Sky Clouds Over, I Will Still Be There

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this week's NXT UK ended with Imperium coming out of the fucking blue and handcuffing Trent to the ring post, forcing him to watch WALTER beat the merciless fuck out of poor Tyler. Trent was _screaming_ Tyler's name during the beatdown, and there's an absolutely adorable and heartbreaking video of Trent carrying a barely-conscious Tyler backstage, bridal style, while visibly struggling to do so. I cried, a little. A lot. This is based on the idea of Trent feeling guilty about not being able to help Tyler or save him from the beating he got at the hands (and feet) of everyone's favourite Austrian avalanche of ham and terror (regards to the Cultaholic lads). This features little Tyler and big (i.e., non-regressed Pete), since I've already written something involving big Tyler helping take care of little Pete. Matty is Tyler's stuffed monkey. Featuring a cameo by a Moomins book, because the Moomins are bollocking awesome.

Tyler hummed contentedly to himself as Pete lathered the shampoo into his hair. It had been a good day; Tyler had spent much of it outside on the patio, playing with his Lego, while Pete and Trent made the most of the sun. As much as Pete relied on his headspace, he’d found himself enjoying this side of it, too; helping take care of Tyler was just as fulfilling as being taken care of.

“Close your eyes,” he said, picking up the shower head and switching it on. Tyler sat patiently with his eyes shut as Pete rinsed his hair out. “Alright, you can open them again.”

“Pete?” Tyler asked. He was doodling with his bath crayons, but he looked distracted.

“Mm?”

“Is dad upset with me?”

Pete frowned. “What do you mean?”

“He…he hasn’t really talked to me today,” Tyler said softly. “He didn’t even wanna play with me.”

“Of course he’s not upset with you, Ty. Why would he be?”

Tyler shrugged. Pete sighed and started combing the conditioner into his hair, taking care with any knots he found. He knew what Tyler was talking about, and while he’d initially felt sorry for Trent, he was starting to get annoyed. He knew Trent still felt bad, but he should’ve known better than to think Tyler would resent him, for god’s sake.

Once he’d rinsed the conditioner out of Tyler’s hair, Pete coaxed him out of the bath and helped him into his pyjamas. As he towelled Tyler’s hair dry, a thought suddenly occurred.

“Hey, Ty,” he said. “Why don’t I ask Trent if he wants to tuck you in? I’m sure he’ll want to read you a story as well.”

Pete saw Tyler’s face light up in the mirror. “Yes, please!” he replied enthusiastically. Pete smiled.

“Alright. I’ll just sort your hair out and then I’ll go fetch him.”

==

Trent was in the living room, one hand clutching a beer a little too tightly, the other fidgeting absentmindedly with his moustache. There was a film on TV, something dramatic and serious-looking involving mountain climbers, and although Trent was looking at the screen, Pete knew he wasn’t watching it. He recognised the look on his face as his _I’m ridiculously stressed but trying with all my might not to show it_ expression.

“Tyler thinks you’re angry at him,” Pete said, leaning back against the doorframe and folding his arms. The sound of his voice snapped Trent out of his reverie and nearly made him drop his beer. His head snapped around to look at Pete, blinking hard.

“What?”

“Tyler thinks you’re angry at him,” Pete repeated, looking coolly at Trent. “He asked me if you were upset with him.”

“Why the hell would he think that?” Trent asked, brow furrowed.

“Gosh, Trent, I’ve got absolutely no idea, but hear me out: _maybe_ it’s got something to do with you barely fucking talking to him all day,” Pete remarked. Trent sighed and gave him a disapproving look.

“You don’t need to be sarcastic,” he grumbled.

“And you don’t need to be sitting down here stewing in your own angst while Tyler’s upstairs scared that he’s done something to upset you,” Pete fired back.

“Now, listen—”

“No, you listen, Trent. Tyler needs you right now. You’re gonna go upstairs and talk to him and you’re gonna fucking explain yourself.”

Trent opened his mouth to protest, then seemed to think better of it and sighed. “You’re right,” he mumbled, rubbing his face. He set his beer down on the table. “Is he in his room?”

“Yep. Didn’t tuck him in yet. I told him you’d do that.”

Trent nodded and got to his feet. As he passed Pete, he gave him a pat on the shoulder, and then began heading up the stairs.

==

Tyler was sitting up in bed, playing with one of Pete’s toy cars. When he heard the door open, he looked up, and smiled at Trent as he walked in.

“Hi, dad,” he said softly.

“Hey there.” Trent sat down on the bed next to Tyler and ruffled his hair, which was still slightly damp from the bath. “How are we doing?”

“I’m good.”

“Are you sure? Pete said you’ve got something on your mind.”

Tyler looked back down, biting his lip and spinning the little rubber wheels on the car. “I figured you were angry at me or something,” he mumbled. “’Cause you didn’t really talk to me today.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, pup. I’m not angry at you at all, alright?” Trent gently rubbed Tyler’s shoulder. “I think I owe you an explanation. You know what happened with, um…” He cleared his throat, trying to think of how best to phrase it; he didn’t want to upset Tyler any more. “What Imperium did?”

Tyler nodded, wide-eyed.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about that a lot. And the thing is, I felt bad about it.”

Tyler’s brow furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly. “Wasn’t your fault,” he said.

“I know. But…I couldn’t help you. And I thought maybe you’d be upset with me for that. Do you understand?”

“But—why would I be?” Tyler scrambled over to Trent. “They tied you up.”

“I know, pup, I know,” Trent said, starting to feel a bit like a scratched record. “But I’m your dad, aren’t I? It’s my job to keep you safe. And when you get hurt and I can’t help you, it makes me feel like I’m not doing a very good job.”

“That’s not true,” Tyler said fiercely.

“Well, I’ll leave that judgment down to you, but I need you to know that…” Trent sighed and rubbed his face. “I am sorry, Tyler. I should’ve talked to you about it sooner. But I need you to know that me not talking to you, that’s all on me, alright? That’s me not doing the sensible thing. None of it is your fault. It’s just dad being silly.”

He gently booped Tyler’s nose, as if to punctuate this statement, and Tyler giggled. Trent smiled. “C’mere. Dad needs a cuddle.”

Tyler climbed into Trent’s lap. Trent wrapped his arms around him and held him close, rubbing his back. “I love you, pup,” he murmured, kissing Tyler on the cheek. 

“Love you too, dad.” Tyler rested his head on Trent’s shoulder. “Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Pete said you’d read me a story.”

Trent smiled. “Of course he did. Do you want me to get you some juice first?”

“Yes please.” Tyler slid off of Trent’s lap and sat back down on the bed cross-legged, retrieving Matty from his pillow and hugging him to his chest.

==

Pete was sitting on the sofa, feet propped up on the coffee table, sipping Trent’s abandoned beer. “How’s he doing?” he asked as Trent passed through on his way to the kitchen.

“Alright. I explained and apologised. Just getting him a drink.”

“See? It was that easy,” Pete smiled.

“Not one more word out of you, young man,” Trent said playfully, but Pete was right. He usually was about these things. Trent hadn’t known what to think when Pete had first told him he wanted to try playing caregiver to Tyler—on the occasions that Tyler was the only one of them regressing, anyway—but to his surprise, he’d taken to it like a duck to water.

Trent fetched Tyler a glass of juice and made his way back upstairs. He left the door slightly ajar and set the juice down on the bedside table. “Now, which story do you want?” he asked.

“I don’t mind,” Tyler said, sipping his juice. Trent shrugged to himself almost imperceptibly and grabbed one from the shelf at random; it turned out to be Comet in Moominland. Trent had rescued a box full of his old kids’ books from his parents’ house a few years previously under the pretence of taking them to a second-hand bookshop, and they’d served him well. He headed back over to the bed and lay down next to Tyler, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and letting him snuggle close.

“Alright, here we go,” he said, and cleared his throat. “Chapter one. The Moomin family had been living for some weeks in the valley where they had found their house after the dreadful flood. It was a wonderful valley, full of happy little animals and flowering trees, and there was a clear narrow river that came down from the mountain, looped round Moominhouse and disappeared in the direction of another valley, where no doubt other little animals wondered where it came from.”

By the time Moomintroll and Sniff were chasing after the silk-monkey, Tyler was barely awake. Trent marked his place in the book and left it on the nightstand, tucking Tyler in and kissing him on the forehead.

“Night, pup,” he murmured. He switched the lamp off and slipped out, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible.


End file.
